


In the Details

by SingManyFaces



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anakin Skywalker Doesn't Turn to the Dark Side, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Non-Explicit Sex, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2019-11-09 03:43:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17994215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SingManyFaces/pseuds/SingManyFaces
Summary: Anakin spends time learning the bodies of those he loves, and enjoys the same treatment.  Pairings change from chapter to chapter, please mind the tags/notes.





	1. Gray, Obi-Wan/Anakin

**Author's Note:**

> Each ‘chapter’ of this fic can stand on its own perfectly well, or be seen as loosely connected to the others. I had a similar theme I wanted to explore with a couple different pairings, and thought it better to group them under a single heading.

Anakin wasn’t exactly sure when it had begun to appear, but it was undeniable now—Obi-Wan had started going gray.  It wasn’t much, just coming in at the older man’s temples, but it kept drawing Anakin’s eye.  Now that he had actually managed to wake before Obi-Wan for once he was taking full advantage, learning the new texture as the lighter strands slipped through his fingers.  “Thinking you’ve been right all this time,” the question was interrupted by a yawn, “calling me ‘Old Man’?” 

 

Obi-Wan’s voice, deepened by sleep, sent a tendril of warmth curling low in his belly, and Anakin couldn’t help the smile that curved his lips.  “Not at all.” 

 

Blue eyes opened, slow to focus, and Obi-Wan grinned as he leaned into Anakin’s touch.  “Why do I find that hard to believe?”   

 

He wasn’t sure he had the words to tease his former master about his own self-image and, with the other man practically purring beneath his hand, he wasn’t about to risk darkening the morning with an attempt.  “If I was thinking anything,” he murmured, making Obi-Wan’s breath hitch as his nails gently skimmed his scalp, “it’s that you’ve obviously been worrying too much.”

 

A short bark of laughter, and Obi-Wan finally cleared the last dregs of sleep from his throat.  “I don’t think that’s possible anymore!”  It was the closest he would come to mentioning the war that morning, as reluctant as his partner to be the one to ruin their peace.  Especially if it meant an end to those delicate touches that were keeping his mind pleasantly fuzzy.  “Though the petting certainly helps…” he acknowledged honestly, letting slip a sigh that was almost a moan, “everything.”

 

“Is that so?”  Anakin’s eyes widened in pleased surprise, a sweet, open smile parting his lips as he made a note to himself to wake the other man like this more often.  His expression quickly turned playful, a familiar mischief gleaming from his gaze.  “Then let me keep helping.” 

 

Long fingers followed the ridge of Obi-Wan’s collarbone, then trailed down the center of his chest; Anakin’s mouth followed after.  “Oh…”  Obi-Wan’s breath stuttered as Anakin’s fingertips descended his ribs, his lips lingering over faded scars.  “Well, this certainly is a wonderful way to start the morning.”

 

Anakin’s laughter was warm as his breath on Obi-Wan’s stomach and he pressed a kiss there before speaking, “I do so love being helpful.”  With the tip of his tongue he circled Obi-Wan’s navel, earned a shudder as he dragged it lower down heated skin.  He allowed only the barest contact as he drew it from base to tip of Obi-Wan’s cock before taking the head into his mouth.  Habit kept Obi-Wan quiet—too long spent in open campsites—but Anakin knew well how to please his former master, the swirl of his tongue making the older man gasp. 

 

He didn’t need the hands buried in his hair to guide him as he swallowed Obi-Wan down but his eyes closed in pleasure at the feel of them, his contented hum wringing a soft moan from his partner.  With clever fingers and skilled tongue he earned shuddering gasps, noises that grew harder for Obi-Wan to stifle as his hips moved in shallow thrusts.  “Anakin…” his voice was low and rich in the way that made the younger man shiver. 

 

It was heady to hear such need in his former master’s voice, to know he was drawing it out of him, and Anakin reveled in the sound of it, humming his own pleasure.  The tension was building in Obi-Wan, he knew, his thrusting more erratic as Anakin’s name on his lips gave way to sweet whimpering.  The grip in his hair tried to pull him back; he tapped twice at his hip to give their signal ‘no,’ and that did Obi-Wan in.  Quickly he drew back a hand to muffle his shout, eyes falling on Anakin again as he swallowed his release. 

 

The hand still in Anakin’s hair moved to cradle his face as he pulled away, urging him back up, “Come here, dear one.”  As soon as he had, he found himself drawn into a soft, lingering kiss.  Obi-Wan’s lips formed a languid grin when they parted, arching a brow, “Helpful indeed.”

 

Anakin caught his lower lip in his teeth just briefly, answering with a small smile.  “I really do think you worry too much, Master.”  The old title still came so readily, but he never felt moved to correct himself.  Instead he returned to running his fingers through the other man’s hair, eyes drawn again to the fade from ginger to gray.  “You deserve some time to relax.”

 

A pleased sound as Obi-Wan turned into the caress before catching his hand, rubbing his thumb across the backs of his knuckles.  “Something we could both do with a bit more of, I think.”  Gently, Obi-Wan pressed his captured hand back against the mattress, lacing their fingers as he held himself over Anakin’s body.  Another grin, this time with a playful edge to it that made Anakin’s breath catch.  “Allow me to ‘help’ too?”

 

Obi-Wan was already sliding down his body as he nodded, lips tugging into a wider smile.  “Yes, Master.” 


	2. Markings, Anakin/Ahsoka

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place at the beginning of the upcoming Mandalore arc in Clone Wars season 7, where I’m under the impression that Ahsoka is no longer underage, so I didn’t tag for it. If the situation makes you uncomfortable, please consider yourself warned.

In the midst of a war reunions were not to be taken lightly, especially those long in coming.  So once they’d arrived on Mandalore, and Anakin was in the actual presence of his former padawan again, formalities didn’t last long.  Their greeting had led to a hug, the hug to sharing tales over drinks as they caught up.  And the drinks had led to…now.

 

Ahsoka’s bunk wasn’t especially large but they had shared far smaller spaces in the past.  Of course, he chuckled ruefully as his fingertips trailed the blue patterning of her montrals, she hadn’t been quite as tall then either.  He wasn’t sure whether it was the sound or the motion that stirred her, but he hummed appreciatively at the sinuous flex of her body against his.  “What are you thinking about?” she murmured, the words warm against his skin. 

 

Another hum, then, almost absently, “How the stars have changed.”

 

Her confusion vibrated along their bond—strong again now, as it had ever been—and she folded her arms atop his chest, propped herself there.  “Master,” she said matter-of-factly, peering at him with half-lidded eyes, “you can’t see the stars from in here.” 

 

He laughed again, steadying her as it knocked her momentarily off balance.  “Not those.”  His hand rose again to the peak of one montral, thumb following the edge of blue that had begun to blur and shift since he’d last seen her, “These.”

 

Amusement joined her confusion between them.  Shaking her head, “What _are_ you talking about?”      

 

“You never noticed, Snips?” he asked, slipping easily into his old grin as he tapped the very point of her montral with the pad of his finger, “The blue, right here, it’s shaped like a star.”  A huff of laughter as he tapped the other point for good measure.  “Two of them.”

 

The flush crept down her lekku as he watched, the stripes darkening all the way to the tips.  “I don’t get many chances to see the top of my own head, Skyguy,” she told him with a lift of her chin.  Cuffing his shoulder lightly, she then used it to lever herself up, sitting astride his hips.  “Is that _really_ the only thing you’ve got on your mind?”  _After all this time_ remained unspoken, but hung between them nonetheless.   

 

“No.”  His voice was soft as he took her in, unhurried now that their earlier urgency had passed.  “No, it’s not.”  He remembered her explaining once—laughing at his confusion then—that a togruta’s markings tended to change over the course of their lifetime; now he was seeing the proof again.  Marks like the wings on her cheeks began at her wrists and ankles now too, arcing up along the lines of her muscles; symmetrical striping followed the curve of her ribs, and streaks that had once been a small cluster beneath her navel had bloomed open to frame it.  Most interesting, he found, was the more indistinct patterning on her inner thighs, not yet white but paling with the promise of more to come.  His gaze lingered over the new pathways her body had marked, and Ahsoka’s breath quickened as his touch followed after.   

 

She captured his hands, finally, as they trailed her thighs and set them at her waist instead, flicking her eyes to the chrono on the wall.  “There’s still some time before the briefing,” she told him, her voice a warm rasp as she offered a lopsided grin, “If you want to look at stars so badly, I can make you see them.”

 

Anakin snorted, his attempt at a disapproving look ruined by his widening grin.  “Snips,” his thumbs stroked absently over her skin, “I don’t think you’d let me live it down if I tried a line like that on you.” 

 

“I wouldn’t,” she agreed cheerfully, “but—” Then she shifted, and the heat of her wrung a rough gasp from him; her mouth curved in a slow, pleased smile.  “Doesn’t mean it’s not true.” 

 

“No—”  The word became a soft, low moan as her hips rocked down against his and he tipped his head back as he rose to meet her, unwilling to take his eyes off her in that moment.  “No, it doesn’t…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


	3. Maintenance, Obi-Wan/Anakin/Ahsoka

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin spends time learning the bodies of those he loves, and enjoys the same treatment. Pairings change from chapter to chapter, please mind the tags/notes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place after the Clone Wars, in a future where Anakin doesn’t fall to the dark side. At this point Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ahsoka have all left the Order.

Obi-Wan’s fingers dug into a tight knot of muscle at Anakin’s shoulder blade, drawing a groan.  “Oh, Anakin…” he sighed, breath stirring the other man’s long hair, “you don’t need to let it get this bad.”

 

“You know me,” he laughed, the sound interrupted by another groan as Obi-Wan pressed harder, “it just sort of snuck up on me.” 

 

It wasn’t unusual to find them as they were now—Anakin seated on the floor between Obi-Wan’s legs as the older man tended to his right arm, carefully massaging at the join of flesh and metal.  Though this time, as he’d smoothed his fingers over his partner’s arm, he’d found much more tension in the muscles than usual, and much higher at that.  Maybe it was all of the repair work he’d been getting, even busier than usual as more happy customers referred friends.  Maybe it had just been too long since they’d taken an afternoon to indulge in the care that did them all good.  Either way, Obi-Wan wasn’t stopping until everything was loose again.

 

“This too?”  Sitting on the floor close by, Ahsoka was holding his hand; his thumb was off as she worked on the joint.  “You don’t usually let the corrosion build up like this,” she observed as she scrubbed at the metal with a tiny wire brush and a homemade solution, “No wonder it wasn’t moving right.”

 

She’d been working at his metal about as long as Obi-Wan had been working at his flesh.  He didn’t have an answer, and he caught a flash of her grin as his head dipped.

 

A gentle quiet fell over the three, the only sounds for some time the movement of Ahsoka’s tools or the occasional noise of exertion from Obi-Wan, along with an answering groan or sigh from Anakin.  The togruta was the first to finish with her task, wiping the newly cleaned joint dry before reattaching the thumb and pressing a kiss to the outer plating.  “Good as new.” 

 

Anakin let her strip off her gloves and stow her tools before hooking his left hand in her belt, chuckling at her squawk of surprise as he yanked her closer.  “Thanks, Snips.”

 

She shook her head at him, not quite managing to fight back another grin as she adjusted Anakin’s mechno arm to sit more comfortably across her legs.  “Well, someone’s got to take care of you when you _forget._ ”  Laying her head on Obi-Wan’s knee, she looped one arm around his leg before lacing her fingers with the metal ones resting on her thigh.  “Isn’t that right?”

 

Obi-Wan huffed a laugh, tugging at the half-tail Anakin wore in his hair as he’d used to tug on his padawan braid.  “Just so.” 

 

Face heating, a small smile curved Anakin’s lips as he ducked his head again.  “Then I’m a lucky man to have you both.” 

 

Fitting her hand to his cheek she turned his face toward her, leaning in as she echoed, “Just so.”

 

The kiss was soft but brief, the press of their lips broken by Anakin’s ragged gasp as sensation sparked brightly beneath his skin, radiating out across his shoulder blade.  He sagged forward, leaning his head on Ahsoka’s shoulder, and she didn’t even try to hide her giggling, “That sounded good!”      

 

Patting Anakin’s back warmly, Obi-Wan cheerfully informed them, “Finally broke up that last knot.”  Anakin hummed in agreement, nodding, and Ahsoka laughed again as her hand slid into his hair, cradling his head.  “If you can stand it,” Obi-Wan murmured after another moment, gaze falling to the mechno arm, “you may want to leave it off for a while.  Give your shoulder a bit more of a rest.”

 

Anakin tensed at the suggestion without meaning to, and drew in a breath as he took stock of his immediate surroundings.  Obi-Wan’s hand hadn’t moved, a warm, reassuring weight on his back; the other man’s legs surrounded him.  Ahsoka’s fingers scratched comfortingly against his scalp as she held him, and his hand.  He released the breath, willed himself to relax as he turned his head without raising it from Ahsoka’s shoulder.  “Will you come down here with us?”

 

“Of course, dear one.”  The smile was small but came easily as he patted Anakin’s back again, this time as an indicator to scoot up.  The others shifted to allow Obi-Wan more room and he lowered himself from the chair to the floor, barely seated before Anakin squirmed down further between his legs to lean back comfortably against his chest.  Ahsoka tucked herself against Obi-Wan’s side and threw her leg over his, arranging the mechno arm again so that Anakin could readily see it before draping her arm over his chest; Obi-wan wound an arm around Anakin too, coming to rest beneath Ahsoka’s.  His lips were in the other man’s hair as he asked, “Is this alright?”

 

His eyes fluttered briefly closed as he breathed deeply again, relaxing further into his lovers’ embrace.  “It’s perfect.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
